The Soldier hesitated for a moment before he gave in and began to carefully strip out of his clothing, most of which was ruined with holes, dirt and blood stains. He wasn't certain that anything but his boots happened to be salvageable, so he balled the material up and sat in the nude on the table as Tony picked through the medical supplies looking for all the equipment necessary to remove bullets from his flesh.

He looked at the entry wounds, and they were puffy and reddened, looking sore and swollen even if they no longer oozed blood. That was dried on his skin and the hole was closing as quickly as his body could repair it. They were open enough that where he had been shot was obvious.

He eyed the syringe that Tony brought towards him, certain that was more dosage than was strictly necessary for him. He could do without, and that dose seemed to be a gross estimation. "Some of that is for you, right?"

And apparently not given that it went in his arm muscle, and outside of a twitch and a huff of breath, he was forced to endure. He watched his bond and reached out with his metal hand to slip his fingers up the underside of Tony's shirt to stroke warm skin. "I appreciate you doing this, I hope you realize. Not many people I would allow to shoot me up with drugs, but I know it's safe with you."